It was, Jacob reflected, a bit of a nuisance having his office invaded. But it really couldn't be helped and she sure was a pretty invasion. He shook his head at himself. Well, there was no harm in appreciating beauty, he supposed, especially when he was so inclined to the artistic. But he didn't know anything about her and she was a professional. A beautiful, very nice, sweet, kind professional, but a professional none the less. Still he let himself appreciate the way the light coming through his office window lit her hair as he walked in that afternoon.

The frown on her face though snapped him out of all thoughts of art and beauty.

"I don't like that look," he said.

She shook her head, her voice sad. "You might want to sit down, Mr. Stone."

"That bad?"

"It's pretty bad. The good news is, you're completely up to date with your taxes. So that's one worry you don't have. You might actually be owed a small amount, but unfortunately that's not really going to help."

"Well, I suppose not worrying about Uncle Sam coming after me is a relief."

"And your family owns the building outright. So that's another positive. But honestly, Mr. Stone, you're pretty deep in debt regardless of the positives. You have an employee leaving soon, if you don't replace her, that's a bit more money you can pull from. But . . ." she looked at his face and at the photos on the desk. "With your children, I don't see not filling the position as an option, you don't have that much staff to begin with."

He sighed. "How long do I have?"

"At the current rate? You'll be lucky to stay open six months." Cassandra winced as she said it. "Gosh, I really really hated saying that, Mr. Stone."

"Jacob," he said softly. "Sorry, if you're gonna give me bad news, it feels a little less clinical if you use my first name."

Cassandra flashed back to her life with a brain tumor and nodded her head. "Yeah, been there."

"Is there anything . . .anything at all that can be done?"

Cassandra met his blue eyes across the desk. In the past five years, she'd seen that same look on many different faces: a mixture of hope, faith and pleading. You can save us right? You can fix this right? All of those faces looking toward her and Flynn, trusting in the Librarian to get them out of a dilemma caused by magic. There was nothing supernatural about this particular issue. It was as mundane and human as could be. But the look on Jacob Stone's face was the same. Can you save my business? Can you keep me from going home to my girls and telling them that daddy lost their future? This was more than a business to Jacob Stone, this was his blood and his life, his past and his future. And even though she knew she really had to go back to the Library and saving the world, she made the decision that first she was going to try to save this man's world.

"On," she whispered.

As numbers and charts danced around her head, she could faintly make out a voice, increasing in concern until finally she heard, "Ms. Cillian! Ms. Cillian! Cassandra!"

"Off," she muttered and looked over at him. Then she realized what she'd done in front of him and flushed. She was used to Flynn, Jenkins and Ezekiel who knew what she was doing. The occasional stranger was usually too scared to notice. But in a normal situation it probably looked very odd.

"Sorry, I was thinking. I believe I can help, but you're going to have to do a few things you might not actually like."

Jacob nodded, taking a deep breath. "I understand. I probably won't but Ms. Cillian . . . ."

"Cassandra," she smiled. "First names now, Jacob."

"Cassandra, this here store's been in my family since 1918, actually before because my great-great uncle had a small place up the road first. Nearly a hundred years, and four generations of Stones. I don't know if my girls will want it, but I want to leave them the option someday to be the fifth. This is why I . . . .well, anyway, this place is my blood."

" I understand, I really do," Cassandra thought about the Library and how it had become her life. "Wait, you said your uncle had a place before this one?"

"Yeah, at least a year, why?"

"Adding it to my list of ideas, the store in this location isn't a hundred yet, but we could do a hundred years of Stone's General Store event. That kind of thing brings in the tourists and I'm gathering from the type of shops down here, you have a fair bit of weekend tourist traffic?"

He nodded. "Yeah, especially this time of year when the weather's nice and not too hot."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna guess your kids will be coming in from school in a few minutes. So you go get ready and I'm gonna make a phone call to my boss and tell him I'll be here a little longer," she grinned at him. "And get yelled at probably."

"Is that a problem?"

She waved her hand. "Eh, Mr. Jenkins is all bark and no bite. Then I'm going to work on this list of recommendations for you. "

"Thank you, Cassandra, I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"It's what I do," Cassandra smiled. After he left, she sighed. This was a whole new game for her. What she did for her normal job, well what they tried worked most of the time. They had a few failures here and there, all Librarians did, which is why the appointment book existed, as an attempt at a redo. But saving this business was up there in risk. Her math was correct in terms of reward, her math always was. But as she'd learned over the course of these five years, math couldn't always account for the human factor.

Then she grabbed her phone and dialed Jenkins.

Cassandra knew she should have been working. The faster she got the recommendations to Jacob, the sooner she could be back at the Library and her life. But little Abby had wanted to color and Cassandra had a weakness for coloring books. She was quite sure it all stemmed from her synesthesia but she just couldn't resist. And for the most part, little kids also didn't care if she colored something differently than anyone else. Eve's nephew was a bit particular about coloring, but then she'd pointed out something he was adamant was green that most people thought was blue and he let her color how she pleased.

Abby's coloring pages were Sesame Street and number themed. Sesame Street was a guilty pleasure of Cassandra's from her early tumor years, there had been something comforting about the show and she was happy to see the familiar Muppet faces. She noticed something else, Abby used the same colors for the same numbers. Now that didn't necessarily mean she associated a color with them. She might be particular like Eve's nephew or the kind of child who liked a sense of order. A neighbor's daughter was that way. Once she decided on a color for say a flower, all the flowers in the picture were the same color. And since each page featured a different number, Cassandra couldn't really make the call from just that example as to what kind of child Abby was.

Other than being incredibly charming. The whole family was. The older girls were a bit mischievous. They were bright and funny, but they also were a little out of control. Cassandra figured they were bright enough to realize their father was being pulled in too many directions and were using it to their advantage. They weren't bad kids, just bright and in need of structure. Their dad was a good man, incredibly charming, kind and she had a feeling more intelligent than anyone actually knew. But he was overwhelmed and it was obvious. She hoped she could at least take one burden off his shoulders.

She wondered, not for the first time, where their mother was. There were no photos of her on Jacob's desk and he didn't wear a ring. There certainly was no woman other than their grandmother coming in and rounding them up for homework or meals.

She shook her head at herself and picked up a crayon. This was none of her business. She was here to give Jacob some recommendations that hopefully would work and tonight she was going back to her life at the Library.

Saving the world once a week. Twice before Friday. It was the life that she chose.

Even if just once in a while, she wouldn't mind just sitting there coloring.

"I'm so sorry," Jacob said as he came in around 5 to find Abby now perched on Cassandra's lap, crayons everywhere. "I had some feed customers come in and I lost track of her."

Cassandra laughed. "It's no big deal. I love coloring and Abby and I were having a great time."

"She really likes you," Jacob said, a bit of a sad smile on his face. Then it changed to a brighter one for his daughter. "Okay, my little artist, it's dinner time."

"Oh gosh," Cassandra said. "And I never have gone over these recommendations with you. Do you want to meet tomorrow morning?"

Jacob bit his lip. "I usually go home and have dinner with the kids, but their granny was gonna feed them tonight. Mabel said she'd cover dinner shift, would you mind a workin' dinner? We can go down the street."

"Only if I pay," Cassandra said. "I'll put it on the expense account." She giggled to herself, thinking of Jenkins' annoyance about that.

"Sounds fair, let me get the girls seen off and I'll be right back."

Dinner. Oh boy. Was that going a step too far? Especially given that she had planned on giving him this stack of recommendations, wishing him luck and going back to the Library.

She felt like dinner was just prolonging things. That maybe she was making excuses not to leave. Nonsense, both of them needed to eat, it totally made sense to combine food with their remaining business. She'd still give him that stack of papers and they'd go back to their lives.

Back to her life in her weird, wonderful amazing Library where all sorts of wonderful things still remained for her to explore. Where magical creatures came for help or to seek out refuge from the world. The base of operations for missions that quite literally saved the world.

That was her place and her life. Her life was there. And not here in this charming store where children dashed in and out and a handsome owner brought her cookies and tea made just how she liked it.

Just dinner and then back to her life. Back to her life. And despite her internal pep talk, Cassandra knew deep down why she sighed.